Scene 1: Reintroductions

Rhomande: This episode is a rather special one, my beloved audience.  You see, my two hundred and sixteenth birthday now looms large, and in preparation for such an important event as my birthday, please allow me to reacquaint you once again with Scottalia’s own Insufferable Basterds!

Rhomande: Imenand Shenouda, who serves The Empire as Grand Weaponsmith and Third Hand of the Emperor.  He also fills the posts of President and Spokesman for The Shenouda Necromancy Corporation. This mummified Human Wizard is ever accompanied by the Greater Cadaver Collector, a twelve-ILDM-high golem made of gravesoil and headstones.  And who can ever forget Imenand’s Special Skeletal-Kittie: his familiar, Bastet.

Imenand: SFX: (4914_noisecollector_cat2.wav) Do not believe for one second, Bard, that my ETERNAL war on foodstuffs has ended, simply because I have accepted that the fluid within alconuts can be used to fuel my bunsen burners and other weapons of the sciences.  

Rhomande: The terrible, towering Maldreth the Impius, the ogre-blooded Patriarch of the Church of War, dedicated to Makar, Father of Strife!

Maldreth: Are we still on that fucking island with all the penguins?  If so, how many more of them do I need to sacrifice on my altar before the rest fall in line and convert to Makarism?

((Sfx: Wak))

Rhomande: Dark Brother Smyd Kaltrops, the Half-Bear Monk!  He also serves as President of Bear Industries. A shapeshifter of insurmountable strength and speed.

Smyd: These alconuts are okay, I guess.  But the sandy earth of this plane really isn’t all that good for my specialty bear grasses.  Maybe if I convince Maldreth and Imenand that I want to declare a war on sand, they’ll build me an aquagenerative farming system.

Rhomande: Ssstiev “the Chameleon” Pierab’bat; thoroughly odorless, colorless, and deadly! 

Stiev: Firssssssst thing I do when we get back to that Ssssssssscottalia placccccce isssss I’m sssssstarting an alconut farm!  Thisssss sssssssshit issssss delicccccciousssssss!

((Sfx: wak))

Rhomande: Issa Featherfoot, Pengonquin Princess. A 7-ILDM-tall shapeshifting Penguin Assassin!  She is currently attended by her faithful and oft-missing bodyguard, the mysterious Tuxedo Beak, and a raggedy, homeless penguin called Luwok Airwakka!

Issa: Hey, Luwok, have you seen Tuxie?  He’s usually about three feet behind me and slightly to the left.

Luwok: I’m not sure, Lady Featherfoot.  Despite Master Sorfinde’s description, it’s usually quite easy to find Master Beak.

Issa: Meh.  I’m sure he’ll turn up at some point.  

Rhomande: Thrimlach Lenanien! A blindfolded Elf Sorcerer with a blackened potato perched on one shoulder and a Franken-Raven on the other.  He is attended by his minions, Torrea Marsvel, an Undead Paladin and Sir Gnome, his faithful Gnome-Skeleton valet.  

Thrimlach: Come along, Torrea.  You, too, Lorramar.  Ugh.  And Sir Gnome, I guess. 

Torrea: Yes, Lord Thrimlach!

Sir Gnome: Yeth, Mathter.

Rhomande: Mhorton… I can’t actually read his surname, mostly because I refuse to learn the Dwarven alphabet.  A new addition to our team, forced upon us by the Empire’s Fairness and Equity in Representation Council, this Dwarf Mage has, sadly, proven too useful to sacrifice to our various and voracious deities.  At least not yet.  Now, Mhorton, are you by any chance related to…

Mhorton: No, my family has nothing to do with the Onion Magnates of Leek Creek.  My clan made all their money in Salt Mining!

Rhomande: And last, but certainly not least: Yours truly, the Illegitimable Rhomande Sorfinde! Bard in Extraordinaire, Beloved of Quintillions, He Who Has Been Tickled By The Rosy Fingers of Dawn…

Issa: (interrupting) Get on with it, Bard!

Rhomande: An Elven Bard of pan-dimensional acclaim! But you already knew that, didn't you? O noble members of my beloved audience, please do recline upon your gilded seats, liberally quaff your libations, inspire your pharmakoi, and adjust your listening devices that you may thoroughly enjoy your evening at The 20-Sided Theatre.